


She Remembers

by Seaotter17



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lullabies, Major Character Injury, Other, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaotter17/pseuds/Seaotter17
Summary: Ahsoka Tano remembers times good and bad, broken promises and angry hearts.A one shot.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Kudos: 12





	She Remembers

**Author's Note:**

> Sad and long. You’ve been warned

"Commander, I really think you should head to the med bay,"

"No, thank you, Rex, I'm fine," Ahsoka answered, with a tired shake of her head.

"With all due respect ma'am, you just took on Maul. And won. General Skywalker will kill me if you come back run ragged," Rex groaned with a tone of exasperation.

"Don't worry, I won't let him," Ahsoka turned and left, footsteps echoing dismally down the corridor of their small stronghold.

~

It was a barren place, her temporary quarters, without luxury or an ounce of frivolity. Nothing decorated the bland space and yet, Ahsoka Tano did not mind it. No, she had been trained too well for that, drilled in the ways of minimalism and cryptic plainness. It still bore at her eyes, made her heart hurt, and still, yet she knew it far more than any luxury. She wouldn't have been able to sleep had a blanket been on the skimpy, metal cot. Where she came from, it was unheard of.

Ahsoka tapped on the small compartment beneath the bed and pulled out her personal medkit. As she wrapped a bacta patch around her aching ribs, she remembered, wincing, what little treasure she had stored in a similar drawer as a padawan.

A small doll, one that she held as she left Shili as just a toddler, a mere youngling. Master Plo Koon had watched her as she hugged the ragged thing, one of the folded clothe points of it torn. It had been then that he knew he could not take it, especially after she had informed him so enthusiastically that it was her birthday!

She remembered...

Plo Koon kneeled beside her, handing back the dusty yellow doll to a dewy-eyed child.

"I am sorry little 'Soka. Here, happy birthday. This will be our little secret, alright?"

The child outstretched her arms with a grateful smile gracing her plump cheeks, becoming rosy with love for the doll.

"Little sicr-it." She confirmed, stumbling with hilarity that charmed over the word 'secret'.

Plo Koon, though his face was covered by a mask, broke out in a huge smile and picked her up, embracing her lovingly. She giggled, a resounding peal of laughter that was bright and untouched by the horror of war. It was a bell, bubbly and sweet, which smelled of summer fruits.

The laugh of a child.

~

The room was bland and yet, little things, ornaments that seem common-place to some strewn about. Things like a ray of sun peeking through the curtains or the soft hum of a song often sung within the walls.

It was a song that of all people, Anakin taught her. He had a small music box that played a song that was constantly out of tune (just think main theme, lullaby style) yet sounded so beautiful.

_There is a place without evil, without hurt. Where we dream among the stars._

_We'll find a place where we are free._

_I can take you there for if but a moment, and we can dance with dawn._

_Joy surrounds you and me, for we have each other in this dreamland._

_freedom._

_It is freedom._

_It is freedom._

_It is freedom._

_This joy we give each other. The light shines upon smiles without pain of death._

_Freedom._

_Quiet freedom_.

The song wound on, and on, round and round 'till the singer knew each line so well that they could almost feel the place it bespoke of. On days which were emotional taxing, they would turn the nob on the box quite tight, and it would run for hours on end. Its hopeful refrain of freedom filled one with joy that you could not shake for the rest of the day.

She remembers...

It was late at night and Ahsoka could feel the heavy weight of the war on her shoulders, sorrow creeping into her. It filled her with dread and a horrible, wretched feeling, like blood dripping down her face. It flowed, nauseating and horrid, like every death that was on her hands was replaying itself in front of her, taunting her.

It was really the tears that had begun to drip down her face, but they felt hot and sticky. Like blood.

Above her, the shadows shivered.

Beneath her, the measly excuse for a bed shivered.

Ahsoka shivered.

She slammed up her mental shields, for Anakin was happy and she did not want to change that. He had been on a long visit with the Senator. Ahsoka didn't want to be a burden.

Sadness crept into her vision; she was only 15 and fighting in a bloody, gory war and it hurt.

Unlike other children, she had no blanket to curl up and ball out her troubles in them. No.

She had to force them down. Why did none of the other padawans feel this?

Barris wasn't good at shielding; she knew this from the experience of feeling Bariss's fear and the embarrassment that Bariss had felt afterward, and yet, Ahsoka never felt deep dread and sorrow from her. It was completely toneless.

Ahsoka jerked to the little compartment beneath her bed where she kept the doll and a little something else.

A datapad stylis that Master Plo gave her when she was ten.

It was quite an ordinary thing; they had datapad stylis's around the temple library like pens in a hotel. Except, it had her markings engraved on it. Deep etchings that glowed in her hand. It was beautiful, really.

Whenever she felt awful and didn't want to work on her studies, she would take it out and tell herself that when she was using it, she wrote a piece of the negative emotions away.

It helped a lot.

But now she simply hugged the doll close and watched as tears dripped down the shiny surface of the stylis, feeling smooth and cold in her hand.

Anakin was sleeping. He was happy, yet something niggled at his senses, a prick of sorrow leaking through heavily fortified walls of mental metal. It dripped, like water from a broken pipe, a tear down a face. It knocked at the door of his mind, introducing itself and causing his own worry to spiral.

Anakin jerked awake, feeling the bed shift beneath him as he regained equilibrium from his sudden waking. The tear had turned to a pool now, and he felt determined to find what grieved his sister so; she was not one to cry freely.

As he dashed to the room adjacent to his, he snatched up the music box which would speak for him; he was not good with comforting words.

Anakin made his way into the room, flinching at each soft choked sob, each gut-wrenching sniff.

He sat on the small cot with a grimace, looking down at the two possessions in Ahsoka's hands.

Anakin turned the nob of the music box and let the tune wind out, all while clutching the crying girl to his chest, holding her as if should he let go she may break. He would not let the broken pieces fall apart.

Anakin smiled, a soft, sad, water smile, as the small girl in his arms drifted off into the fabled dreamland.

~

Ahsoka was never very good at much as a child, much less singing. And as she recalled the song they used to sing together, she supposed Anakin wasn't very good at it either. It was comforting, in a way, to know that the man you looked up to shared a fault with you. Even if the fault was common, and more of just a talent they had been spared of. It still leveled her admiration and sometimes fear of Anakin. And slowly, it had truly become a relationship that of siblings.

Obi-wan however, had taken a longer time to become that father-like mentor just because of how distant he had always felt.

In fact, it had taken a life or death situation for them to realize just how much they meant to each other.

She remembers.

~

"Ahsoka, can you hear me?"

The world was spinning. The building they had been scouting out had collapsed on top of them and Ahsoka wasn't sure whether they were alive or dead or if she even was "Ahsoka".

All that she knew was that her head hurt and the man who called like what sounded like her name seemed to be in pain as well.

"Master K-kenobi?" She stuttered out, vaguely aware of how it felt like her stomach seemed to be in the process of being ripped apart with fire.

"Yes?" He answered like he was unaware that he had just asked her a question, his mind already brimming with a plan to get out.

"Are you ok?" She was surprised to find herself asking that as she looked down at her bare mid-drift which was split by a volatile piece of sharp debris. Blood had begun to seep onto her skirt.

He seemed to be caught off guard by that question, like he wasn't expecting her to care.

"Well, if you must know, I don't think I'm doing quite well," He sighed, a jittering, painful exhale of air that pierced the stale atmosphere of the rubble.

She looked up.

And really wished she hadn't.

His arm was mangled in the most awful of fashions and his eyes were covered by a great caking of multitudes of dust, char, and shrapnel.

But what really drew her attention was their matching huge cuts just atop their foreheads, which were both bleeding with amazing ferocity.

And while Obi-Wan Kenobi was a great Jedi Master, who really didn't need his eyes that much, it would've been very helpful to have them clean and accessible right now, as they were buried in a maze of a fallen building.

"It does look bad," Ahsoka admitted, grimacing.

Obi-Wan mustered a wry smile, obviously sensing her own pain as he shuffled toward her and proper her upon his knee; still very much not able to see.

"Master Kenobi?" Ahsoka asked, grunting from the stinging of the shrapnel. The blood dripped down her stomach, with spasms of pain coming in a desultory manner. She could feel herself going.

"Hm?" He replied, his own strength fading as the air tightened.

"Are we going to die?" Her voice no longer retained her strong facade and she was just a scared, worried young girl who is on the brink of witnessing the end of her life.

"No. We will stay alive," Master Kenobi's voice was strong, suddenly caring.

Fatherly.

~

And he was right. They did stay alive, though after that Ahsoka started wearing a more modest dress to hide the scar across her abdomen. After that, he seemed to value her company far more, was far more willing to teach her those random, mundane lessons, not just out of obligation. But because he wanted to. Wanted to see her learn. She was no longer that expendable youngling to him and had taken the position of stand-in daughter.

Now, as she finished wrapping her various injuries, she traced her scar with her finger, which was coated in a layer of loose bacta.

She remembered something Obi-Wan once told her, one day when she had messed up ever so awfully, nearly costing her whole squadron.

"History has its eyes on you."

She had since then tried so desperately to live up to that statement, make future historians proud. And yet...

It was moments where she didn't have to worry about them that she enjoyed the most, the memories that she reveled in, treasured.

After Ahsoka and Obi-Wan's near-death experience, more emphasis was put on life and staying alive in their little 5 person dysfunctional family. (for reference that's Rex, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Padme and Anakin.) They began to put more importance on birthdays, a celebration of life, always trying to get each other little gifts if possible, always going to Dex's Diner on those days.

It was also the point in time in which she found out that she and Rex shared a birthday. At first, Rex didn't care whether or not they even mention such a thing as a birthday. But they made it a day of remembrance that resonated and it felt like a natural part of him all too soon.

She remembers.

~

Ahsoka woke to the shining of sunlight on her face and Anakin screeching–

"SURPRISE!!"

"Gah!" Ahsoka jolted up into a sea of beaming identical faces and one shock of curly brown hair all leaning over her.

Some of them popped back, rubbing their chins while Ahsoka messaged her now sore forehead. However, everyone seemed to recover quickly and then continued chattering.

"LOOK WHAT WE GOT YOU!" Anakin held out a gold tainted choker necklace with a diamond-shaped pendant hanging from it.

Ahsoka was so surprised that she could have cried, laughed, and screamed all at once. All of that dumped into one big dump of excitement and gratitude through the bond she shared with Anakin and a speechless stare.

"H-how?" She stuttered, so overwhelmed that coherent speech seemed something that she would never regain the ability to master.

"We pooled our money when it went on sale and General Skywalker fortified it with Senator Amidala's help so you can wear it in battle!" Fives blurted, unable to contain himself.

"We saw that look you gave it when we passed it the shop last week," Echo added, slyly passing a knowing a look between Anakin and himself.

"Kriff. They saw that?" She cursed to herself, but she supposed it had come to fruition in the end, so it was worth it.

You see, sometimes Ahsoka wished she could just be a normal girl. Normal with regular everyday problems and not the pressure of an entire war on her back. The look she had given it the shop was an outlet for such wishes that she knew she shouldn't have. Yet, it felt so good.

Ahsoka ran up and hugged Anakin, motioning for the clones to join them, and was immediately squished in a dog pile of hugs. She laughed beneath them, happier than she had been in most of her life.

When she was finally released, Anakin held out the necklace and Ahsoka took it, mouth rolling with the words "Thank you" over and over again. She clasped it about her neck and promised to him that she would never take it off.

"Oh and guess what!" Anakin said, bubbling with enthusiasm.

"What?" Ahsoka questioned, yawning a bit from her early awakening.

"We finally got Rex to spill his birthday!"

Ahsoka jumped up and wooped, a sound brimming with excitement.

"And we're surprising him today at Dex's Diner. You in?" Anakin aforementioned.

"Of course!"

This would be fun.

~

She had broken her promise. She had flung the necklace out into the depths of Coruscant, hurt and angry, as she watched her whole world crumble beneath her feet.

She was never going to have her little family back.

It was gone.

Forever.

She let out a tear but quickly hushed it. She had already cried her tears.

It was time to play general.

"Commander, are you alright," Rex' worried voice floated through the door.

"I'm fine," She said, not quite truthfully.

Unfortunately, Rex knew her far too well to let her hide her sorrows.

He sat next to her and let her lay her head on his lap.

Ahsoka was nearly about to kick him out, thank him, but she needed to deal with her emotions by herself, alone; when a soft melody drifted to her ears.

_There is a place without evil, without hurt. Where we dream among the stars._

_We'll find a place where we are free._

_I can take you there for if but a moment, and we can dance with dawn._

_Joy surrounds you and me, for we have each other in this dreamland._

_freedom._

_It is freedom._

_It is freedom._

_It is freedom._

_This joy we give each other. The light shines upon smiles without pain of death._

_Freedom._

_Quiet freedom._

"Thank you." She muttered, so ever grateful.

"I know...

"For I remember,"

~


End file.
